


Heritage

by transmarkcohen



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Culture, F/F, F/M, Finland (Country), Languages, M/M, Multi, Suomi | Finnish, heritage, idk that's basically it, mi'kmaq, rent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26312146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transmarkcohen/pseuds/transmarkcohen
Summary: Roger Davis is an immigrant from Finland. He moves to the US for college, and the first person he meets is Mark Cohen. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Benjamin Coffin III/Alison Grey, Joanne Jefferson/Maureen Johnson, Mark Cohen/Mimi Marquez, Mark Cohen/Roger Davis, Mark Cohen/Roger Davis/Mimi Marquez, Thomas B. Collins/Angel Dumott Schunard
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	1. Freshmen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anothergayrentfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anothergayrentfan/gifts).



Roger was sitting in a desk at his new school, watching the teacher talk about...something. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t speak a word of English. 

He’d just moved to America from Finland. He was lucky enough to have been accepted to a prestigious college like this one, and his parents had been willing to pay. So now he sat next to his pale & very blond deskmate, who asked him something, but Roger just shrugged and smiled apologetically. Still didn’t speak English. 

“Roger!” the teacher said. Well, he understood  _ that.  _ She gestured for him to come up to the front of the room. He turned around to face the class, and guessing she wanted him to introduce himself, he did. 

“Uh...terve,” he started. His deskmate’s eyes widened. Clearly didn’t speak Finnish. “Nimeni on Roger. Minä muutin juuri tänne alkaen Suomi. Anteeksi, en puhu Englanti.” He smiled apologetically and went back to his seat, where his deskmate still stared at him. The teacher called another person up to introduce themselves (the class was about culture studies) as the small blond man pointed to something written in Sharpie on his notebook. 

“Mark Cohen,” Roger said. Blond man-no, Mark-nodded enthusiastically. “Kaunis nimeni.” 

“Thanks,” Mark said, and  _ that  _ Roger could understand. “What’s a kaunis?” 

When they left class, Mark followed Roger. Roger wondered if he was also Finnish, given his blond hair. He decided to ask. “Sinä olet suomalainen?” he said, looking at Mark. The man was handsome. 

“Uh...I don’t speak Finnish. But I have a friend who does! Joanne. She’s really cool. She’s here to study law and she speaks Russian, Finnish, Ainu, Xhosa, Quechua, Hopi, Mi’kmaq, and...oh! Lule Saami! Are you Saami? I know they live in Finland…” Mark grinned. Roger found his excitableness adorable. 

“Kyllä, minä on saamelainen. ‘Saami.’ Ah, äitini on saamelainen, ja isäni on suomilainen. Ja...virolainen, ruotsilainen, ja venäjä, minä mielestäni.” Roger paused. “Sinä olet todella komea.”

“Cool!” Mark said, not understanding one bit. “I think Joanne will help us talk. Meet up after class?” Mark paused. “Wait, you don’t speak English, do you? Oh well, I’ll come find you.” He ran off, and Roger felt his heart flutter in his chest. 

He would talk to Joanne. She would help him flirt with Mark. 

Roger was in the library after class. He found Mark, sitting next to a beautiful black woman. She appeared to be helping him with his homework - interestingly enough she also wore glasses, like Mark. 

He approached the two and waved slightly. “Terve,” he said. The black woman, who Roger assumed was Joanne looked up. She smiled. 

“Terve! Sinä olet Roger?” She stuck out her hand for him to shake, which he did. He nodded. 

“Ja sinä olet Joanne?” Joanne nodded. Mark watched them with fascination. Roger, wanting to be direct, pointed at the blond man and said “Hän on komea.” 

Joanne grinned. “Oh my god!” She reverted back to English. “Are you gay? I’m gay. I mean, I’m a lesbian, but, um, well, women-“ She blushed darkly as she remembered Roger didn’t speak English. “...Nainen. Ei, naiset…”

Roger laughed. “Anteeksi.”

Mark tapped Joanne on the shoulder and asked her something. She nodded. “Right. Of course. I’ll be your translator, so that you two can talk. I’ll teach Mark Finnish. Ja Roger, jos haluat sitä, aion opettaa sinulle Englanti.” Roger nodded, smiling. Joanne added then, “Minä autan sinua flirttailla kanssa Mark.” 


	2. Mark and Joanne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty short chapter but I wanted to update this
> 
> edit: i made it longer. pls enjoy

Mark and Joanne were returning to their coed dorm after saying goodbye to Roger. Mark had noticed his odd puppy-dog eyes, and come to the conclusion that Roger, upon seeing Joanne, had fallen in love with her. Poor thing. Mark had been there, before he knew she was a lesbian. 

“What do you think of Roger?” Mark asked as they entered the lounge. “I mean, he’s pretty cool, right? I don’t understand him because I don’t speak Finnish, but-“ 

“You’re going to,” Joanne interrupted. “I’m going to teach you Finnish, alright?” 

Mark sighed. “Right now?” 

Joanne nodded, pulling a textbook out of her backpack as they sat down in armchairs across from each other. “Right now. First, some basic phrases...hello is ‘terve’, goodbye is ‘hyvästi’, how are you is ‘mitä kuuluu’, and I love you is ‘rakastan sinua’.” Joanne smiled, her plan coming to fruition. “Repeat it. Up to ‘rakastan sinua’.”

Mark sighed again but did so. He’d learned by now it was useless to argue with Joanne when she wanted to teach you.

Later, Mark and Joanne brought Roger into a small-ish room, flags hanging everywhere. A map was pinned to the back wall with various colored thumbtacks stuck in it. Roger saw a blue one in Finland, and he smiled. 

Near the back of the room a white woman was arguing with a dark-skinned man. She gestured wildly with her hands, occasionally slipping into what Roger assumed was her native language - which he couldn’t understand one bit. 

Mark grinned and ran up to the woman. “Maureen!” he said.  _ Maureen.  _ What kind of a name was that?!

Roger followed Mark, while Joanne wrote in a book by the door. 

Mark started talking to Maureen, who’d stopped arguing with the other man (he was eating now - some odd American food). Mark pointed at Roger, apparently introducing him to Maureen. 

Maureen grinned. “Hey,” she said to Roger. “You’re hot.” 

Mark blushed.  _ “Maureen!”  _

__ Maureen shrugged. “What? It’s true.” 

Roger stared. “Uh...ei...en puhu Englanti.” 

“What?” asked Maureen. “The hell kind of language is that?” 

“Maureen, it’s Finnish-“ 

“Parles català?” Maureen asked. Roger felt so helpless. He only spoke Finnish, and the tiny bit of English he was learning. 

A hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned, grateful to see it was Joanne. He hugged her. Joanne hugged back, surprised, patting his back. “Se on okei, Roger. Maureen, be nice.” Maureen shrugged and left. Roger turned to watch her go when he spotted a beautiful woman sitting in a chair near the door, working on homework.

She had curly brown hair and light brown skin, and her fingernails were painted pink. She wore a leather jacket and jeans with - wait, was she even wearing a shirt under that jacket?  _ Was she just wearing a bra??  _

__ Roger felt a blush creeping up his cheeks as he stared. First Mark, now this woman? How many people was he going to fall in love with? 

Joanne tapped his shoulder. “Roger?” she said. “Come sit down. We can start our meeting,” she said in Finnish. 

Roger nodded, still staring at the woman. She swore in Spanish as her pencil broke. A...strange person, who began chatting with Mimi in Spanish, sat next to her. Mark grabbed his arm and sat Roger down next to his seat, just as Joanne was beginning to speak. 

“Alright, hello,” she said. “I was thinking we could begin by introducing ourselves - our name, where we’re from, and maybe what our mother tongue is.” She smiled. “I’m excited to meet all of you. I was Vice President of this club last year, but our former president graduated, so now I am the President.” Polite applause was heard, and Joanne translated all of this into Finnish for Roger. 

“I’ll go first,” said Maureen, the odd woman. Roger nearly jumped out of his seat when she spoke - she was loud and talked a lot. Too much, he thought. “I’m Maureen Johnson. I’m from Andorra la Vella, Andorra, and though we may be small now, we will take over our borders one day. Andorra will reign supreme.” She laughed. Roger noticed he was no longer the only one staring. Mark had his head in his hands. “Oh! And my native language is Catalan.”

The bra-woman - how Roger had come to think of her - put up her hand. “I’ll go next, Joanne,” she said. “My name is Mimi Marquez. I’m from La Paz, Bolivia. My native languages are Aymara and Spanish.” She smiled. Roger loved it, just barely listening to Joanne’s translation of the two introductions for him. 

“I’ll go!!” Mark waved his hand excitedly. “Uh, I’m Mark Cohen, I’m from Quebec. That’s in Canada. I’m also part Mi’kmaq, that’s an indigenous tribe that lives there, so I’m that and French - well, Québécois French - my native language is French. I haven’t spoken it in a while. There’s a lot of reasons for that. You probably don’t need my whole backstory right now. But I can tell you later! After the official club stuff-“ 

“Mark,” Joanne cut him off. “We only have so much time.” 

Mark blushed red. “Sorry,” he said. “I just really like talking about Quebec.” He turned to Roger, eyes wide. “Oh, no, Joanne has to translate all of that for you now, doesn’t she?” 

Joanne sighed, rolling her eyes, and translated. Roger laughed and said something to Mark in Finnish. 

“He says you talk too much,” translated Joanne. 

Mark shrugged. “Whoops.” 

Roger laughed even more, though he didn’t understand. The strange...person...next to Mimi made a move to talk next. 

“Hello,” they said. “I’m Angel. Angel Dumott-Schunard. I’m from the Republic of the Congo, my native language is Kikongo, and if you’re wondering about my gender, so am I.” Everyone laughed good-naturedly at that. 

When Joanne translated, Roger frowned. He was a little confused. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” He asked Joanne in Finnish. 

Joanne nodded and explained a little more, and Roger lit up like a Christmas tree. 

“Oh! I get it!” He turned to Angel. “Rakastan sinua!” 

Angel smiled, though a bit taken aback. “Thank you,” they said. “That’s very kind, er…?” 

“Roger,” Joanne said. “Alright, who's next?” 

“Me,” the man Maureen had been arguing with before stood up. “Tom Collins. Maldives. Dhivehi.” He sat down again and Roger gave an approving nod in his direction. People didn’t need to talk so much.

“You next, Roger,” Joanne smiled and gestured in his direction. Roger cleared his throat, suddenly anxious. He stared at the floor. 

“Minä...minä olen Roger Davis. Minä olen Suomesta. En puhu englantia.” He thought for a second then tried, in English, “No English.” 

“Wonderful!” Joanne clapped, proud of Roger. “I’m Joanne Jefferson, I grew up in Baku, Azerbaijan but moved here when I was seven, and of course, my native language is Azerbaijani.” Joanne smiled. “I’m on good terms with Armenians, though. Now...we should have two more members coming soon.” She glanced at the door, then turned to Roger and said “kaksi,” which he understood. “Before they arrive, however, feel free to mingle and eat the lounge’s stale Twinkies the faculty hasn’t bothered to replace!” She gestured grandly at a plastic table with some branded American food on it. Roger turned to ask Mark what it was, but he’d disappeared. 

Roger found him at the table with the American food. The bra-woman - no, Mimi, had already taken three of them and was stuffing some more in her leather jacket pockets. Mark didn’t need to take any, he practically inhaled the plastic-wrapped golden bricks. 

Roger must’ve been staring at Mark in confusion, because Mark noticed. “Oh, hey!” He said. “Do...do you have Twinkies in Finland? I love them.” He handed Roger a Twinkie, who proceeded to open it and bite it. He made a face. Too spongy. And weird cream sauce on the inside. 

Mark laughed. “Not good, huh? Uh...what food do you like?” He made an ‘eating’ symbol with his hands. 

“Pulla,” Roger sighed. “Ja kahvi.” He pointed at the coffee machine. 

“Coffee!” Mark repeated, breaking out into a grin. “Finally something I understand! C’mon, let’s get some...kahvi, right?” He grabbed Roger’s arm and pulled him over to the coffee machine, making a cup for each of them.


End file.
